


agnosthesia

by agentlithium



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Herbert West Being a Jackass, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Violence, Post-Movie: Re-Animator (1985), Unhealthy Relationships, dan is not coping dont listen to him hes lying, herbert trying his best to not be a jackass all the time, unhealthy everything, we can have some men crying and talking about feelings as a treat :), weird roommates to codependent friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27936797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentlithium/pseuds/agentlithium
Summary: n. the state of not knowing how you really feel about something
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	agnosthesia

**Author's Note:**

> so re-animator is my new thing because I am gay and vile!! Yes their relationship is unhealthy Yes this is a terrible idea No I am not romanticizing emotional manipulation but herbert fucking kills people this is hardly the most objectionable thing he’s ever done let him be a fucked up little bastard man in love ok
> 
> (thank u dictionary of obscure sorrows for the title)

Things were not getting any easier.

Recovery isn’t a linear set of tasks. It doesn’t have a beginning, a middle, and an end. It starts, stops, resumes, and resets, if it even starts at all. Some days are harder than others. Old wounds will tear open just when you think they’ve scabbed over. Dan knew this. He was going to be— well, he would have been a doctor. He didn’t know what he was going to be now. Still, he knew the healing process better than most people. It wasn’t like that made it better. It didn’t make it easier to sleep at night, didn’t make it easier to get up in the morning, didn’t make it easier to work, eat, or breathe. He rarely left his small rental property. He would run the odd errand, getting groceries and the like, but little else. They were still under investigation. It was best to keep their heads down.

Herbert was getting restless. Dan could feel it. It was like the air around him crackled with electricity and stagnating potential. In the time they had known each other, Dan had never seen Herbert stay away from his work for long. There was a heavy tension mounting and there was no way of telling what exactly it was building to. Maybe Dan would once again wake to Herbert screaming in the basement, one of his vile constructions having predictably turned on its creator. Maybe Dan would wake to find Herbert dead. Maybe Herbert would kill him just to bring him back as a monster.

They were almost entirely out of the precious reagent. What little Herbert managed to hide from police was stashed away in the back of his fridge. To Dan’s surprise, he hadn’t touched it once in nearly three months, since the night Dan’s entire life was left in ruins. In the interval since then, Herbert was frighteningly quiet. It could have been that he simply had nothing to experiment on. Suitable subjects, animal or otherwise, were all but impossible to acquire without raising suspicion. Herbert wasn’t stupid, but he was, however, incredibly careless when his one-track mind settled into a rut. If he wanted some poor creature to mutilate, he wouldn’t even consider the risk of acquiring it. That made the origin of his inaction all the more confounding. Dan knew it was pointless to assume anything about how Herbert was feeling, but he thought that maybe he, too, had been shaken by that night. Maybe he finally saw that his efforts to improve his reagent were futile at best and fatal at worst.

It was unlikely, but Dan could hope. He had to be hopeful for something.

Sometimes, Herbert’s silence was comforting, in a strange way. If Dan didn’t know the instability simmering behind his blank facade, his stoicism would have been something Dan could cling to. It was foolish to ignore the obvious danger inherent to his companion, but one night, only a few days following the massacre, he did. He was sitting on the couch in the same state of catatonic misery when Herbert sat next to him. All he asked was if Dan had eaten that day. At first, Dan didn’t answer, though the answer would have been a negative. It was hardly a massive effort on Herbert’s part, but the simple question had knocked something loose in Dan’s chest. They hadn’t spoken much besides to make sure the stories they gave to police lined up. Something about the fact that he even asked made his throat tighten. His mouth opened to speak and all he could give was a sob. He cried like a child into Herbert’s neat white shirt. Dan held onto it, to him, like he would drown if he let go. Herbert didn’t reciprocate with anything other than compassionate stillness. He didn’t move until Dan finally got up and ventured to his bedroom. He had been afraid to sleep in the bed he once shared with his fiancée. His _late_ fiancée. It felt colder and emptier than it ever had, but it was the first full night’s sleep he had gotten since.

When Dan, having come to his senses the next day, tried to bring it up to Herbert and apologize for his outburst, Herbert stopped him. _You’re grieving, Dan,_ he had said. _It is the expected response to the loss of someone that has died to which an affection was formed_. Dan nearly laughed at the extremely clinical description of grief Herbert rattled off. He wasn’t quite ready to laugh then. He still wasn’t quite ready to laugh, but he also hadn’t cried like that again in the last few weeks. It was progress.

Herbert could never be described as a calming figure. Dan expected that having him around, sharing a home with him would completely derail his recovery. He just wouldn’t be able to put his research on hold until Dan was ready to return to it, if he would ever be. To Dan’s surprise, however, Herbert had basically been his only source of support. With so little outside human contact, Dan must have latched onto the closest person to him. Being around Herbert became enough to ease his heartache, if only a little bit. He found himself treasuring each fleeting, genuine smile he caught Herbert trying to hide. He relished in the fact that Herbert was a much more physical person than one would assume, touching his back or his arm in a way that was oddly grounding. It stirred something within him— a feeling that had been dead for some time.

He really thought that Herbert had undergone some kind of massive shift in his motivations. He wasn’t the same manic genius Dan had met. He still had his moments of plotting and villainous musing that he attempted to rope Dan into, but it wasn’t anywhere near what it was before, like demanding Dan break him into the morgue at Miskatonic. He only ventured down to the basement to clean up the mess that was left behind by Dr. Hill. The state of it seemed to depress him. He chipped away at the destruction over time. Dan sometimes came down to ask him a question or check on him, but he never made it to the bottom of the stairs himself. Something held him back from taking that last step onto the chilled concrete. He would stop and survey the room in which Herbert was, puzzlingly, on his best behaviour. He was acting almost comically inconspicuous, usually cleaning or reading from the notes that he proved to value more than his own life. Each time Dan would visit him downstairs, more and more clutter had disappeared. Broken glass was swept up, overturned beakers were cleaned and put away. The only thing that stayed was the faded stain from where Herbert had pried off Dr. Hill’s head with the shovel that still hung in the back of the room. He had clearly tried to scrub it out, but it had long since seeped into every crevice of the floor. Dan didn’t abhor the fact like he wished he had.

Thankfully, Herbert hadn’t murdered anyone else in their basement as of late. Dan really thought this meant something. They started talking about things that didn’t have to do with the reagent or the massacre. Herbert wasn’t exactly the best conversation partner, usually mocking whatever Dan was talking about with a scoff or derisive comment, but at least he was listening. They started eating meals, then they ate meals together. They watched T.V. together— or Dan watched T.V. while Herbert read nearby. They spent time together for no reason.

Dan thought he changed until he knew that he hadn’t.

He still wasn’t sleeping well. He would wake often at night, thrown panting from horrific dreams he could never remember come morning. It was the same song and dance that night. He was lying on his back staring at the ceiling and waiting for his eyelids to grow heavy again when he heard it: the sound of polished shoes moving about the house, down the hallway, then descending the basement stairs. Dan turned to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was approaching 2 a.m. His stomach jumped into his throat and sank to his feet at the same time, tearing him in two. He tried to convince himself to stay in bed, ignore whatever Herbert was doing, and get some rest. If he wanted to get himself arrested or killed, who was Dan to stop him?

He threw on the discarded flannel shirt he had worn that day and retread the steps Herbert had taken with all the steady deliberation of a man being lead to the gallows. He should have taken his baseball bat with him, just in case. If anything, he’d use it to smash Herbert’s skull in for this. He paused outside of the door to the basement and listened. He heard no thrashing or ghastly howling, but someone was definitely doing something down there. He was about to reach for the doorknob to reveal whatever horror Herbert had wrought upon the world when he heard him coming back upstairs. His first instinct was to hide, but he didn’t move. The door nearly hit him as it swung open to reveal Herbert in a state of familiar dishevelment. He was fully dressed, tie and all, in the same clothes he had worn that day. He had finally cracked.

He jumped when he registered Dan standing across from him in the dark, narrow corridor. He didn’t immediately look guilty, but that gave no clear signs. Dan wasn’t sure Herbert could even feel guilty about anything.

“Dan,” he coughed and resumed his usual tone of disinterest. “You’re awake.” Dan had no want to participate in whatever game he was playing. He wanted an answer.

“What are you doing, Herbert?”

There was the flash of remorse, Dan noted. It wasn’t like how he looked when he re-animated Dr. Hill. He was afraid then. This time, he just looked a little… embarrassed.

“Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Herbert.”

“I’m just taking inventory.”

“Inventory of what?”

Herbert hesitated, which made Dan worry even more. Whatever he was, Herbert wasn’t one to lie, not to Dan. He didn’t misconstrue facts to spare feelings. He only veered from honesty when it was to save his own skin. The fact that he was slow to answer meant that he had something he would rather keep hidden.

Dan's senses had been dulled for so long. When the crippling devastation of his loss passed him by, it gave way to numbness. He wasn’t the upbeat optimist with a saviour complex anymore. He felt nothing, he was nothing. But finally, at that moment, he felt something besides the gnawing void where his heart once was. He was angry. He was _seething_. His hands trembling, he took Herbert by the shirt. He didn’t shake him or throw him against the wall or scream at him. He just curled his fingers into the fabric and held him there. Herbert was a small man, short and slight. He could curl his lip and snarl and bark orders all he wanted, but ultimately, he knew that Dan could hurt him if he wanted to. He tried to maintain his standard air of arrogance, but couldn’t disguise the way he tensed with fear.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” Dan’s voice was dark and measured. Herbert glared at him, scrambling to regain power.

“Inventory,” he repeated stubbornly. Dan drew in a sharp breath, either restraining himself or preparing to force the truth out of him, prompting Herbert to continue. “We’re missing a few key components to the reagent. There’s a chemical supplier on the other side of town that should have what we need. We can acquire them in the morning.”

_“The reagent?”_

“We barely have enough left to reanimate a lab rat, Dan. I need to make more,” he talked slowly like Dan was too stupid to follow.

Herbert could only stay still for so long. Dan didn’t know why he expected any different. There were still police driving by their house, calling them down to the station, demanding they repeat the same story over and over and over. They were still murder suspects, for Christ’s sake. Herbert was going to risk both of their necks for his selfish pursuits. Dan threw his arm back before he could stop himself, his hand tightening into a fist. It was all Herbert’s fault. Everything that happened was his fault. None of it would have occurred if Herbert had just left him alone. He was going to kill him.

Herbert already knew he had done something that crossed the vague, ever-shifting line for Dan. He was intelligent, far from unaware of his actions and their consequences. All he could do was cower and try to shield his face from the oncoming onslaught. Dan stared for a moment, then his arm dropped. He let go of Herbert and fell back against the wall. It took Herbert a second to realize that Dan wasn’t going to beat him senseless. Instead, the brief burst of rage had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Herbert didn’t say anything. He just straightened out his wrinkled clothes.

“I can’t do it,” Dan uttered. He wasn’t sure if Herbert heard him, since he didn’t reply. He spoke again: “I can’t do this.”

“What are you talking about?” Herbert’s sounded so condescending. It was as if he were talking to a child.

“Herbert, I can’t do it anymore!” Dan raised his voice. Herbert didn’t flinch away from him. He stood steely in his resolve.

“Dan—”

“I don’t want to be a part of this. Risking everything, lying to everyone, hurting people, desecrating corpses— it’s making me fucking sick. It’s sick,” he ran a hand over his face. Bile rose in his throat at the very thought of the morbid actions he had already committed in what he now knew to be a venture into insanity.

Herbert squared his narrow shoulders and stepped to Dan. Seconds ago, he was a shivering thing totally at Dan’s mercy, and now he was doing everything he could to establish dominance again. He had the spectacular ability to make anyone feel small for even opening their mouth.

“Dan, I know you’re grieving, but you can’t possibly abandon all of this now. What about all the lives we could save? Don’t you want that?” he asked, though it obviously wasn’t a question. Of course, it was what Dan wanted. That was how Herbert managed to drag him into his madness in the first place.

“But we aren’t saving anyone! We’ve gotten three people killed! Can’t you see that it’s all pointless? You can’t defeat death.”

Herbert’s lips pressed to a thin line. To call this pointless was calling his life’s work pointless, calling _him_ pointless. He maintained his composure.

“The reagent isn’t perfect, that I will admit, but once it is perfected, all of this will have been worth it.”

“No!” Dan shouted back. “None of this is worth it! I’ve lost everything! I have nothing left.”

Herbert faltered. It would have been easy to miss, but Dan had seen the man insulted enough times to notice how he subtly bristled when he felt wronged.

“You and I are on the brink of the most incredible scientific development in history. Is that not something?” The earnestness of his question only fueled Dan’s fury. He didn’t even see why Dan was upset.

“God, Herbert! What is wrong with you? Why can’t you understand that I need more? I can’t just live for the work or a promise of fame or whatever keeps you going. I know you think I’m a goddamn fool for it, but I need more than that. I need something real, something emotional and, fuck, something living. I need someone warm and breathing, someone I can love, someone who loves me and I can’t have that if I keep doing this shit. Look at what happened to Meg. I need to be close to someone and I can’t give that up, not even for the chance of changing the world.” Dan didn’t notice the angry tears brimming in his eyes until they finally spilled over, running hot down his face. “I just can’t do this. I’m sure you can find another assistant or an accomplice, whatever I am to you…” he trailed off, drying his cheek in the sleeve of his shirt.

Herbert’s expression was unreadable. It had softened somewhat but that gave no more details.

“Is that all you think you are? My accomplice?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes.”

Dan scoffed. Herbert’s brow furrowed.

“Dan, you are my partner. I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish half as much without you.”

“Why is that not reassuring?”

To be called a partner by someone as distant as Herbert West sparked a dull warmth deep in Dan’s stomach, but he was quick to snuff it out. He couldn’t deny that he wanted this closeness, but he didn’t want to be a partner in _this._ He didn’t want to be responsible, even partially, for so much suffering.

“I’m trying to tell you that you are irreplaceable. You aren’t just a tool for me to use. I value you, your input, your dedication. It’s admirable, if occasionally inconvenient.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being an inconvenience,” Dan huffed. He had had enough of this conversation. Herbert couldn’t even get through a compliment without tainting it. He started to walk back down the tight hallway.

“Dan, will you listen to me?” Herbert took hold of his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “You tell me I don’t understand you, but you refuse to hear what I have to say.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

Still, Dan turned back to face him.

“Have you? If you had, I wouldn’t think you would be this deliberately obtuse.”

Dan didn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes. He just wanted Herbert to spit out whatever empty tributes he could make up to keep Dan under his thumb.

“Herbert, where are you going with this?”

“It’s... difficult to say.” For the first time, Herbert seemed to be worried about how his words would affect Dan. It was shockingly out of character for a man so callous. He began unsteadily. 

“The reagent is the most important thing in my life. It has the potential to separate me— _us—_ from the billions of people who will live and die forgotten. I am placing all of my trust in you with this project. I wouldn’t do that with anyone else. I want you to be a part of this.”

“There is more to life than work.” Dan reiterated tiredly. It wouldn’t matter how many times he said it, he knew Herbert would never fully comprehend. “I know it’s important to you, but I told you I need more than that—”

“God damn it! Am I not living?” Herbert snapped. Dan was startled by his sudden eruption, so much so that he didn’t even hear what he said.

“What?”

“You said you need something real, something living. Is my heart not beating? Am I not enough?”

Dan was silent and his expression, eyes wide and jaw slack, dumbfounded. Beneath the blanket of confusion, realization was gradually waking. 

He didn’t even notice that Herbert was still holding his arm until he brought his hand to his throat. He pressed two of Dan’s fingers to the skin just underneath his jaw. It was rough with day-old stubble and damp with sweat. Below his touch, Herbert’s pulse beat rapidly.

“Do you feel that?”

Dan stared at him vacantly. Herbert gave an impatient sigh, but his confidence had noticeably flagged. His hands were clammy, still shakily grasping Dan. His throat bobbed where Dan loosely cradled it between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze flitted nervously around Dan’s face, searching for something that neither man knew. This was Herbert West at his most vulnerable.

“Yes,” Dan finally responded.

“I’m not as lifeless as you believe me to be. I often wish I was. It would be easier that way, but unfortunately, I am human.” He tightened his fingers around Dan’s wrist. There was a sad glint in his hazel eyes. For once, there was something bright behind them, something brand new. “I’m alive, Dan. I’m real. And if you want to leave, I can’t stop you. I can’t make you stay, but… I need you.”

The admission was barely audible, breathed out like a shameful secret. It was like it hurt him to confess that he wanted something beyond the barest necessities. He was appalled by his own humanity and did everything to repress it. He had been so good at pretending to be an empty husk that Dan had never once considered that he longed for anything beyond his reagent’s perfection. His unbroken stare, still burning with the same intensity, kept Dan paralyzed.

“Herbert, are you— w-what are you trying to say?” he tripped on his words, choking on them, but he had to know. Herbert squirmed with discomfort.

“You know full well,” he muttered, only then releasing Dan’s wrist. His hand dropped to rest on Herbert’s chest. “I have let my… sentiments impede me. I haven’t made any progress in months. I knew resuming the work too soon would have upset you, but time waits for no man. This is bigger, greater than I. My emotions shouldn’t control me like this.”

Like everything to do with Herbert, the meaning of what he was clumsily trying to communicate was shrouded in misleading language and an acidic delivery. It took far too long to dawn on Dan, but the shock hit him instantly after it did. It was a profession of love, a twisted, warped, rotten kind of love. It was Herbert out of control, under the heel of his baser needs.

“I never intended for you to find out,” Herbert struggled to recover his once imperturbable mask. “My unseemly paroxysm was entirely inappropriate.”

“Wait. Just, wait,” Dan stopped him but had nothing to fill the new silence. He needed a moment to think, above anything. Herbert, thankfully, stayed quiet. Dan brought his other hand up, sliding both to Herbert’s shoulders. It was experimental, seeing if he could even stomach touching him. He almost wished it had disgusted him, to hold the man who ruined him like he deserved to be loved in return. It was an insult to Meg and her memory. He would never be able to escape if he gave in to this. He would only be giving Herbert more of him to destroy. He was still in so much pain. He was in no place to make a decision like this. There were so many reasons to walk away, pretend none of this happened. He could still leave. Dan’s uncertainty would end up hurting Herbert as well, most likely. Such an entanglement would do neither man any good.

The question that begged to be asked was: did Dan care? It was a totally novel idea to him, one he’d had no time to consider. He never thought Hebert was capable of showing affection, much less than Herbert harboured affections for him. It made his gut twist, whether out of nerves or excitement. Maybe it was a mistake that would cost him his life, or maybe it was exactly what he never knew he needed. Maybe he wanted manic energy, unfettered passion, and dedication verging on the deranged. It would be a constant battle, but it would be wrong not to try.

He hoped Meg would forgive him, wherever she was.

“Do you mean it?” Dan’s hand moved further to cup the back of Herbert’s neck. Another foreign feeling, that of smooth, short hair instead of his fingers tangling in long strands. He expected this wouldn’t be the last of the new sensations. He swallowed. “Do you love me?”

At the very mention of the word, Herbert looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. It didn’t seem the type of thing he would say under any circumstance. Again, it would be easier if he denied it. Herbert hadn’t said anything overtly incriminating yet, so Dan may have just misinterpreted him. He wasn’t sure what answer he preferred. 

Herbert straightened and Dan only noticed how close they were when Herbert’s nose nearly collided with his. He should have pushed him away. Instead, he watched Herbert’s lips slowly part before he spoke. The words barely made it through his teeth.

“Would I humiliate myself like this if I didn’t?”

A confirmation. It may have been disguised, but it was a confirmation nonetheless. He didn’t think Herbert would say it. He was happy that he didn’t because it would have been too much to hear. His brain was running like an overworked machine. He could hardly form a coherent thought. He didn’t know how to react or what to say or why he leaned in and kissed Herbert before he could talk himself out of it. It was another experiment, just to see if this was real, if it was what he really wanted. It was barely more than a light brush of lips and it lasted only a few seconds before he pulled away. It was rare to see Herbert taken aback, but he had been left thoroughly speechless. Dan wasn’t fairing much better, at first. He had to fight the increasing shakes that threatened to consume his whole body. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else.

“Herbert, I— I’ll need time.”

Herbert’s speechlessness came to an end with a clearing of his throat. 

“Of course.”

“I’m not really sure how I feel.”

“Understandable.”

“I mean, I don’t know if I…” _reciprocate your feelings? Should subject my vulnerable mental state to this?_

“No need to elaborate.”

“But I’m willing to try this. I am.”

Herbert looked him in the eye. Would Dan ever be able to look into those eyes without his brain completely failing him? A hand came to rest on his arm.

“I can wait, Dan. I will always be here.”

That would have been a threat once. Herbert West as a constant presence in his life would have been a punishment worse than any other. Dan’s lip quirked into a small smile. He dropped his head so his forehead rested atop Herbert’s. 

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> shitty ending but what else is new!!!! go be mean to me in the comments!! thank u for reading!!!


End file.
